Sweet Addiction (25 page)

“Dylan, what happened?”

My hands are shaking as
I hover the pen above the paper, not sure what exactly I want to write for him
to see. There’s so much I want to say. I want to tell him how badly he’s fucked
up, how much I love him and how angry I am at him for
making
me fall in
love with him. Because that’s exactly what he did. He pulled that love that I
had buried down deep inside me right up to the surface and now I’m drowning in
it. I wipe under my eyes and look up at Joey.

“He doesn’t love me.
He’s just fucking me. He doesn’t do serious.” I take in a deep shaky breath.
“I’m done.” My hand begins to move as he brings his over my shoulder and holds
me while I write. It’s a sloppy mess but it’s legible and I leave it open on
the table for him to read.

   
Reese,

     
I can’t do this anymore. I’m sure you’ll have no trouble finding someone who
can give you what you want but it’s not me. Please let me go.

                                                                                   
Dylan

Turning, I drop my head
into Joey’s chest and cry harder than I’ve ever cried before. His arms envelope
me and he whispers reassuring words into my ear as I sob, drenching his navy
blue polo shirt.

“Sweetie, did he really
say that?”

I nod. “Yes. He said he
doesn’t do serious and he’s just fucking me because he likes to.”

“Shit, Dylan, I’ve seen
him with you. He’s not going to let you go without a fight and you know it.”

I shake against him and
grip him closer to me. “Joey, I can’t do this with him. Please make sure he
understands that I can’t see him. I fucking can’t.”

I back away from him
and see him nod weakly, most likely fearing the Reese tirade that he will
certainly be up against as I grab my keys and remove the spare one he gave me,
placing it on the note I just scribbled. I look up at him. “I really hate to
ask this but would you and Billy mind if---”

“Fuck no. I already
decided that you’re moving in with us until this shit blows over. Reese will
break through that new window of yours if he knows you’re upstairs in your
loft.” I give him half a smile and pick up my duffle, swinging it over my
shoulder as the tears begin to fall again.

“Come on, cupcake.
You’ll be okay.” And with one final look, I lock up behind us and let Joey move
my body down the hallway and towards the elevators, because I have no control
of it myself anymore.

**

After a quick stop at
the bakery to pick up some things, Joey takes us back to Billy’s condo and
quickly pours us two massive glasses of wine. He offers me the guest room which
I place my stuff down in before zoning out on the couch, staring down at my
glass. I’m still crying but not as heavily, only a few tears streaming down my
face in between blinks. I rubbed and cried off all my makeup and haven’t dared
to look at myself in a mirror for fear as to what I might see. My heart
physically aches, like it’s slowly being pulled apart by some unseen force and
it’s taken its ever loving time doing it too. I just wish it would speed up the
process and rip it to shreds already. After several minutes alone with my
thoughts, Joey joins me on the couch with a heavy sigh.

“I’m so fucking
confused right now. Dylan, I really thought, shit we
all
thought that
Reese wanted more than just some casual bullshit.” He grabs my hand as I keep
my head turned down towards my glass. “I’m so sorry, cupcake. Do you want to
call Juls?”

I take a massive sip,
hoping to dull some of the pain because alcohol is the poster child for broken
heart syndrome. “I will, although I probably don’t have to. Once my note is
discovered and he can’t find or talk to me, he’ll be calling Ian who will in
turn inform Juls.” I swallow another gulp. “I feel so stupid. Everyone warned
me about him, you especially. Telling me what all Billy said about how he
doesn’t and will never do a relationship.” I shake with my cries and have to
put my glass down, covering my face up as it all comes back again. “I hate
him.” Joey wraps me up and hushes me as I convulse in intense sobs against his
body. This is it. This is what being broken feels like. And a man that I wasn’t
even in a relationship with did it to me.
Fucking hell.

Two days before the
wedding.

“Oh for Christ’s sake,
Juls. You need to decide on a cake flavor now or you’re not getting a fucking
cake.”
Good Lord.
I get that the girl only cares about her sweet husband
to be but shit. I’m in charge of providing something decadent and she’s only
given me the type of flowers she wants on it. Juls just laughs at me as she
flips through my design book in my kitchen bakery.

It’s been close to
three months since I ended things with Reese. After he came home and found my
note, my phone didn’t stop ringing for a week straight. I ignored all of his
calls and texts, and I also ignored everything Juls would try to tell him about
him. I didn’t want to know how upset he was or how bad he wanted to talk to me
about things. I moved back into my loft after only spending a few days at Billy
and Joey’s condo. They were very sweet to me and overly hands on with my
healing process, but I knew that if I was going to move the fuck on, I needed
to do it in my own place. The texts and calls from Reese stopped after a month
and a part of me wished that I hadn’t deleted every text without reading it or
every voicemail without listening to it. I missed his voice and I hated myself
for it. I missed his words even more and that made me want to punch someone.
But he got the hint and I haven’t seen my phone light up with his name in
exactly fifty-four days. Juls got the hint also and stopped bringing him up,
but I think that was mainly because her wedding was quickly approaching and she
had a lot of shit to take care of. And Ian knew better than to talk about him
around me. He’s been a witness to some of my verbal attacks on men.

I’ve seen her and Ian a
lot in the past two months, helping them plan the wedding that my best friend
basically put into her husband to be’s hands. He’s been amazing, like really
amazing at handling everything except for the God damned cake selection.
That
he decided to leave up to Juls and I’m about to hit her upside her pretty
little head with my design book if she doesn’t pick something out already. The
fact that I have her cake to make isn’t the only thing stressing me out.
Tomorrow night is the rehearsal dinner and I will be stuck in the same room
with the man that broke me eighty-three days ago. I’ve been reassured that we
won’t be sitting anywhere near each other but that doesn’t help much. I still
have to rehearse the ceremony with him which means I’ll be standing directly
across from him up on that stupid altar and my arm will be looped through his
when we walk down the aisle.
God I hate weddings.

“Alright, here’s the
deal,” Juls says after thirty minutes of me tapping my fingers on my worktop at
her. “I want a three-tiered almond lemon cake with lemon filling and a cream
cheese frosting. There, that wasn’t so hard now was it?”
Oh she’s gone mad.
She
slams the book shut and pushes it towards me, her glowing bride to be smile
chipping away at my remaining patience. “Now, onto more pressing matters, the
bachelorette party. I want to go dancing.”

I roll my eyes and
laugh as I write down her wedding cake selection.
About damned time too.
“Sounds
good to me. As long as the booze is flowing I’m all in. I plan on staying highly
intoxicated for the next two days anyways.” I begin pulling the ingredients I
need off the shelves to start her cake.

“Well you better not be
drunk at the wedding. You are in charge of making sure everything runs smoothly
and how the hell are you going to do that if your head is stuck in a toilet?”

“Oh relax, of course I
won’t be plastered at the wedding. Just tipsy enough to tolerate the
situation.” I pull out my mixer and set it aside. “Where do you want to go
tonight anyways? I’m going to have to meet you there since I have a shit load
of baking to do.” I glare at her at the end of my sentence and she gives me her
goofy grin.

“I was thinking
Clancy’s since we haven’t been there in forever. Oh shit. Remember the last
time you, me, and Joey went there? Didn’t he end up hooking up with three
different guys in one night?”

“Of course, in true
Joey fashion.
That
definitely won’t be happening tonight considering
he’s practically engaged as it is.” My face drops at the fact that I’m the only
single friend in our circle and I shake my head at myself.
No sulking. You
don’t need a man. Men are dickheads.

“Dylan.” She reaches
over and grabs my hand that’s on my mixer, pulling me close to her and gripping
both of my shoulders. I brace myself for what’s coming. “I know the next two
days are going to be hard for you, but you’re the strongest woman I know and
have bigger balls than
any
man I know.” I let out a weak laugh. “If
anyone can get through this, it’s you.” She pulls me in for a hug and I let
her. At least she didn’t mention he who shall not be named. “He’s just as
miserable as you are.”
Damn it. So close.

“Juls, don’t.”

“Well at least he was.
I haven’t heard anything for a while. Apparently he’s slammed at work.”

“I don’t give a shit!”
I push away from her and begin ripping open my bags of flour. “He’s miserable?
Doubt it. I’m sure he’s sticking his dick into every whore in the South Side
zip code as we speak.” My voice breaks at the end and I struggle to hold back
my tears, but they’ve been on reserve lately and are never far away. Her arms
wrap around my back and she sighs heavily.

“I’m sorry, sweets. I’m
gonna head out but will see you tonight at Clancy’s right?” I nod and sniff
loudly as she plants a quick kiss on my back before she exits the shop.

I take a minute to dry
my tears before I start mixing up the ingredients for the almond lemon cake.
God I couldn’t wait to start drinking tonight. If I don’t show up hung-over to
the rehearsal tomorrow, it will surely be a wedding miracle.

**

Clancy’s is packed but
I manage to spot Joey, Juls, and Brooke propped up at a round table by the bar.
I shimmy my way through the crowd and receive very alcohol induced greetings
from all three of them.

“Dylan. Fuck yes! I’m
heading to the bar. What do you want?” Brooke asks as she stumbles off her
stool. “I’m good, I’m good. Good,” she turns and says to whoever is watching
her. 
Well, drunken Brooke didn’t take long to come out and play.

I try to stiffen my
laugh. “Whatever you’re having sounds good.”

“No.” Joey and Juls say
together quickly.

“Oh. Uh okay, glass of
Pinot then?”

Brooke spins towards
the bar as I eye up the other two. “Why don’t I want to drink what she’s
having?”

“Because I’m pretty
sure she’s drinking straight jet fuel,” Joey barks around his beer. “She’s
completely out of control and
I’m
in charge of babysitting her for some
stupid reason.” He narrows his eyes at Juls. “I’m letting it slide this one
time since you’re getting married in two days.”

“Love you,” she replies
as she blows him a kiss. “After you get your drink, Dyl, we’re hitting the
dance floor.” I nod and glance down at her phone that is lighting up on the
table.

“Hey, husband to be. Oh
just drinking and dancing. What are you boys doing? If you say strip club I’m
finding myself another groom while I’m here.” She takes a sip of her drink and
smiles around her straw as Brooke returns miraculously without spilling
anything.

“Here you go, Dylan. By
the way, the bartender asked for your number.” I glance around her as Joey
whips his head in the same direction. The big bald bartender sends a wink my
way.

“Uh, no thanks.” I take
a generous sip of my wine.

“Seriously, like he’d
ever stand a chance with you. He’s more your type isn’t he, Brooke?”

“Fuck you, Joey. You’ve
been on my ass all night. What’s your problem? Billy holding out on you?”

“Please. I get laid
way
more than you do. Tell me, has your virginity grown back yet?”

“Jesus Christ, Joey,” I
bark and try not to crack up laughing at poor Brooke’s expense. She isn’t the
only person at this table not getting laid. He merely shrugs his shoulders and
glances towards the dance floor.

“So, Dylan, isn’t
tomorrow going to be insanely awkward for you?” I glare directly at her and
suddenly wish I wouldn’t have just come to her defense. Brooke Wicks and alcohol
do
not
mix well. She talks a lot of shit and then ends up passing out or
throwing up all over the place. Not a good look for anybody.

I brush my hair off my
shoulders. “No, Brooke, I’m not expecting it to be awkward at all. In fact, I
can’t fucking wait to have a reunion with ex-fling. It’s not like things ended
badly between us or anything.” My voice is thick with sarcasm but given her
current state, she probably won’t pick it up. 
How much has she had to
drink?

“Christ, Brooke. Don’t
be so fucking rude,” Joey says as Juls turns her back away from the table and
continues her phone call. She’s in blissful bride mode and I don’t blame her
for avoiding this conversation.

“What? I’m just saying,
I would feel awkward if I had to play nice with my ex. You should just hook up
with someone else in the wedding party.”

“Jesus Christ, like
that’s the answer to all the world’s problems. Just hook up with someone in the
wedding party. For your information, the only two other men
in
the
wedding party are gay or married and even if they weren’t, no. I’m not hooking
up with anyone at the rehearsal dinner and definitely
not
at the
wedding. That’s how this whole fucked up situation got started in the first
place.” I glance over at Joey who is staring at me, wide-mouthed and stunned.
“You remember right, Joey? ‘Go ahead Dylan. You know you want to slip off into
some dark corner and do something else in that lap of his.’ This is all your
fault.”

His eyebrows raise and
he leans across the table towards me. “
My
fault? How is this my fault? I
didn’t push you into his lap. I didn’t make you run off to the bathroom with
him and tell him to fuck you. And I sure as hell didn’t put a gun to your head
to continue being his casual fuck buddy.” His finger darts across the table and
points directly at me. “That was all you, cupcake.”

Juls spins around and
glares at both of us, phone still up to her ear. “Jesus Christ, you two. Keep
it down before we get thrown out of here.”

I reach over and grab
his finger, bending it a bit as he screeches and pulls it away from me. “All
me? Are you fucking serious?
You
were the one that said to be his sexy
little mistress when we thought he was married. And
you
were the one
that kept trying to convince me that it was more than just casual sex. ‘Oh
Dylan, the man sends you love letters and he’s so romantic.’  Remember
that
bullshit?” I point right back at him and he jerks back in his stool. “Don’t you
dare
tell me you didn’t have a part in this.  I had you yapping in
my ear all day about how what we were doing meant more to both of us when
clearly
,
it only meant more to me.” I slam my hand down on the table and grab my drink,
downing it quickly. My sparing partner’s face softens and he shakes his head.

“Fuck, Dylan. You’re
right.” He throws his hands up in the air dramatically. “You’re right. I’m
sorry. I really hate fighting with you. You scare the shit out of me.” We both
burst out laughing and I feel a pair of eyes on me as I turn quickly to Brooke
who looks confused.

“You two are fucking
weird. And I don’t care if the other two groomsmen are gay, married, or
prefemale to male transformation; I’m getting laid by someone.”

“Bitch, you better stay
the hell away from Billy,” Joey says sternly. Juls quickly spins around and all
arguments come to a halt at the sight of her beaming face. We all regain our
composure and she’s none the wiser.

“Okay, baby, I love you
too. Have fun.” She hangs up her phone and hops off her stool. “Alright,
bitches, I believe it’s time for me to show your sorry asses up on the dance
floor.” She does a quick spin and her black dress fans out around her knees.

“Ha!” I yell playfully
as I get down and run over to her, putting her hand in mine. A clumsy Brooke
follows while Joey quickly downs his beer.

“Let’s do this!” he
yells.

We danced all night
into the early morning hours, finally leaving Clancy’s at 2:00a.m. and all
piling into the same cab. None of us drove which was a good thing because we
are all rightly smashed and in zero condition to do anything but go to bed.
We’re giggling like idiots in the back seat of the cab, throwing out our
addresses and confusing the hell out of the driver.

“Christ, already. Who
am I taking home first? I can’t understand four directions at once,” the driver
yells back as we all fall into a fit of tearful chuckles.

“Brooke, oh my fucking
God. That guy you were dancing with looked like Mr. T.” I laugh and she
searches her brain for the image. “He even had all the gold chains.”

“But he could move.
Whew.”

“Yeah he could. I’m
pretty sure he had better moves than me which says a whole fucking lot,” Joey
adds as Juls wipes the tears under her eyes.